


Preservation

by avespika



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avespika/pseuds/avespika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe- Clara is a small town lawyer. The Doctor owns an island full of rare species- and a great deal of natural gas the Nestene Corporation will do anything to get. Can Clara help him save his adopted home from destruction?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oswin Law, PLLC

**Author's Note:**

> Clara’s an American here and the story is set in the U.S.- mostly because I know next to nothing about UK law and quite a bit about U.S. law. I also took a lot of liberty with the concept of eminent domain- particularly with regard to the jurisdiction where this story is set which actually has stronger than normal limits. Later on I’ll take some liberty with other law, again in the interest of drama. But it serves the story and I hope no one is reading this for the legal information anyway!
> 
> Other characters come in later- the first few chapters are just Clara and the Doctor.

Clara Oswald was a shark. Well, a reformed shark. The teeth were still there, but her motivation had changed.

A year ago she packed up her life in the city, gave her notice at a firm of three hundred, and moved to the tiny village of Kirtland on the shore of Lake Michigan. She revived her grandmother’s old firm, Oswin Law, PLLC, and turned her attention to the ordinary disputes and concerns of village life. The staff consisted of Clara and one part-time clerk and secretary.

This particular day was not going at all as planned. She had an early morning hearing at the court in the county seat, which was an hour drive away down narrow country roads. The judge had been late, making her cross. Six hours, with drive time and waiting, just to put a simple consent judgment of divorce on the record. Obnoxious.

Running on nothing but coffee, she was late for her two o’clock. Not a great impression to make on a potential new client. She sped to her office and at 2:07pm pulled up to find her new client had already arrived, was trying to peek into the window off the front porch.  

“Hi, sorry,” she called ahead of her as she climbed the porch steps.

“Hello. Do you know when the lawyer will be back?” the man responded in thick accent Clara could not identify. It certainly wasn’t “Yooper.” Then again, neither was hers.

“I’m her, care to come inside?” Clara stuck out her hand. “Clara Oswald. Pleased to meet you.”

“Bit young for a lawyer.”

“Bit rude for someone who needs my help. I didn’t catch your name, Mr.-?”

“Doctor, thank you.”

“Ok, Doctor who? My assistant made the appointment but didn’t put a name on my calendar.”

“John Smith but just “the Doctor” will be fine, thank you.

As she unlocked the door Clara thought that the man following behind her was a bit odd. He was tall and angular, with greying curls and a deeply lined face. He wore a pair of dark Wayfarers, plaid trousers, and a jacket despite the late August humidity.

“Can I take your coat?”

“That’s alright, I prefer to leave it on.”

“Oooookay. Have a seat.” Clara motioned to her conference room. The stick-man looked around suspiciously, tucked his sunglasses into the interior of the jacket, and sat down.

Clara smoothed her skirt and sat opposite the strange man. “So, what can I help you with?”

“You aren’t from here.”

“Not exactly. But neither are you. Does that matter?”

“It might. Where are you from?”

“Downstate. My grandmother lived in Kirtland and my dad grew up here. I spent summers here. No accent though- ten years in New York took care of that. But I’ve been back almost a year. What about you?”

“You’ll do then. What do you know about eminent domain?”

“That I did poorly on that question on the bar exam. But I can refer you- there’s a mid-sized firm in Traverse City that might know more, or you might try one of the firms father south.”

“No- it has to be a local, or as close as I guess it gets up here.”

“I do general work, Doctor. Wills, divorces, guardianships. The occasional driving while intoxicated.”

“You’ve got that piece of paper,” the Doctor waived at her diploma on the wall. “And an internet connection. Isn’t that enough? Beside, this case is more about heart than head.”

“Have you ever even met a lawyer before? I think you might be looking inquiring after a member of the wrong profession. Heart isn’t in my wheelhouse.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Maybe I ought to explain. You know the island, right off the coast?”

“Jack Pine Isle, yeah. Why?”

“Well, I own it and Nestene Oil wants it. Hydraulic fracturing. Fracking.” Clara found this new client rude but had to admit his accent was intriguing. Especially the way his voice crackled with passionate disgust at the word “fracking.” “They’ve made offer after offer but I’m not seeing it torn apart. And now they’re threatening legal action.”

Clara interest was piqued. It sounded like the kind of big case she hadn’t done since she moved away from the city. But she shook off her curiosity and responded reasonably. “It isn’t ethical for me to take a case too far outside my area of practice.”

“Nothing’s been filed yet. You’ve got time to learn.”

“It’s literally the first rule in the professional conduct rules.”

“Clara- may I call you Clara?” She nodded. “Clara. Have you ever actually been to Jack Pine Isle?”

“No- you can only reach it by boat, right?”

“Right. Come with me and see the place before you make up your mind. You’ll see why it has to be someone local. Not some pudding-brained lawyer from some concrete hellhole.”

Maybe it was his unusually entrancing accent, or her light-headedness from skipping both breakfast and lunch. Plus her schedule was clear for the rest of the day and Shona, her secretary, was fielding calls remotely. And she was amused that he thought the modest city a few hours south was a “concrete hellhole.” Before she could stop herself, Clara Oswald heard herself say “ok.”


	2. Ready To Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's lawyer is not what he expected.

The Doctor had not been expecting the only lawyer in the town closest to his island to be this feisty. Or an attractive young woman. She couldn’t be more than 30 years old. Wait, attractive? He horrified himself. Get your mind out of the gutter, old man. She’s at least twenty years younger than you are.

When she agreed to come to the island it felt like the first good news he’d had in months, maybe years. “Ok, let’s go,” he said immediately. He wasn’t used to waiting for other people.

“Hold on there. I can’t just go wandering off to an island in the middle of nowhere with a strange man. I need some time to get a plan in order.”

“A plan? Why would you need a plan for something that will take what, three hours, maybe?”

“Well, I need to let Shona, my secretary, know that I’ll be out. I need to have lunch. And I need to put away my files from court earlier today.”

“Bit of a control freak, are we?”

“Bit of an obnoxious English stick insect are we?”

Wrong thing to say. “ENGLISH!” he roared at her, jaw dropped in mock horror.

Clara shrugged. “Sorry- Irish then?”

The Doctor rubbed his temples. “You Americans don’t understand anything about the rest of the world, do you? I’m SCOTTISH.”

“Scottish then, yikes.”

At least she can give as good as she gets. The Doctor sighed. “Go on then, call your secretary or whoever.”

While Clara called this Shona person the Doctor looked out the window across the street where a small coffee shop and deli was located. Getting her lunch might speed things along a bit.  After all, his time was valuable. It wasn’t like he needed to impress her or anything. As her call ended he gestured toward the window. “That place across the way- any good?”

“Best sandwiches north of the 45th parallel.”

“I doubt that, but moving on- what’s good there?”

“Everything, but I’m partial to the caprese on focaccia.”

“Ok, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait what?”

“Bit thick for a lawyer. I’ll spell it out. I am going to get sandwiches. You put your files away. Then we can go see the island, and get to work on this.”

“No I got that. I was just surprised. Didn’t peg you as the sort of person who ran to fetch sandwiches.”

“You may find I’m full of surprises, Clara Oswald.” The Doctor turned and left, thankful that he could hide his face which had flushed pink with embarrassment. Full of surprises? She was bound to think he was creepy after that. He wondered if she might think he had ulterior motives for taking her out to the island. He wondered if reassuring her would make her even more wary.

He discovered his fears were unfounded as she gratefully devoured the sandwich and the coffee he brought with it. He had ordered one for himself as well and found it surprisingly good, especially for a place so off the beaten path. He decided it was worth it to make conversation. “So, does this place get many tourists?”

“Some,” Clara replied between bites. “The major employer is still the mill, upriver a few miles. But you own an island quite nearby, how do you not know more about the town?”

“I don’t come to the mainland too often. I’m friendly with the Nobles but they’re about the only people I know around here.”

“The family that own the grocery store?”

“Yes- Donna, Wilf’s granddaughter, is actually the reason I came here in the first place. I met her and Lee on their honeymoon in Fiji. She told me if I thought that island was beautiful I had to see this one. She was right.”

“Oh I love Donna. She used to babysit me, actually, when I was a kid here.”

Inwardly the Doctor cringed. Donna was five years younger than he was. That confirmed it- he was old enough to be Clara’s dad. “Well, if you’re done, I suppose we ought to be going.”

Clara stood, brushing crumbs off her skirt. “Lead on.”

They headed down to the shore where his boat was anchored. It was on the smaller side, with both a motor and sails, and was mainly used to ferry The Doctor and groceries back to the mainland. With the exception of Donna and Lee, and once in a great while Wilf, there had not been anyone else on board since he bought it.

The Doctor handed Clara a life vest, which she struggled to secure in the back. “A little help, please?”

“You are a bit more round than Donna, I suppose.”

“Rude again!” she said, but she was shaking her head and smiling.

He took a deep breath and adjusted her straps. Why did the only lawyer in this town have to be Clara Oswald?


	3. Jack Pine Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara experiences why the Doctor cares for the island.

Clara Oswald was not going to get sea sick. Lake sick? Water sick in general. She was far too professional to lose her lunch all over her newest client. That didn’t stop her stomach from trying.

“Are you alright? Looking a bit green.”

“After a decade away I managed to develop a bit of motion sickness,” she confessed. “I had a bad incident on a yacht in Hudson Bay after a bit too much champagne… that’s not important,” she corrected. She sat down, hoping it would help soothe the rocking sensation.

“Pick a steady point on the horizon,” he suggested. “It helps to focus.” Clara looked back toward the mainland, growing more distant by the moment. Her stomach gave another lurch. This was hopeless. She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment, willing the nausea to subside.

“Maybe more drastic measures,” the Doctor mumbled, setting a course and coming around behind her. Clara wondered what that meant, until she sensed the Doctor behind her, lifting her hair into a loose ponytail in one hand. She felt him lean toward her and gently begin blowing on the back of her neck. The relief was instant. A chill rippled through her entire body. Whatever else the Doctor was, he certainly had some useful knowledge. And surprisingly a lot of kindness behind his abrasive first impression.

“Thank you,” she managed to breathe out.

“No trouble. We’re nearly there, by the way.”

“That’s a relief.” The nausea had returned as soon as he’d left her to return to steering.

Once they were anchored she struggled out of her life vest and stepped onto the shore. She immediately saw why he was so attached to the island. It was small but very beautiful, with a short, rocky beach, a small hill, and loads of trees. Dark clouds were gathering off to one side but otherwise the day was bright and clear. The Doctor motioned for her to follow, heading up the hill.

Clara was not dressed for this. Cursing her failure to swap heels for sneakers she carefully picked a path up the hill. The Doctor, clad in boots, was more than halfway up the hill as she navigated the first few yards.

Not to be outdone she pushed herself harder to ascend. Her foot caught some loose soil and she began to slide. “Woah!” she called out.

The Doctor spun around quickly. “I didn’t realize you were all the way down there,” he said, retreating back down the hill. “Follow my lead.”

Clara stepped after him and found the course much easier. Clearly he’d been up this hill enough to know the best route, even in impractical shoes.

If Clara wasn’t already breathless with exertion when they reached the summit, this would have taken her breath away. Spread out below the hill was a beautiful pine forest. Each tree was a work of art, crooked and imperfect individually but together a sea of uninterrupted green. Bushes, heavy with small berries, grew around the bases of the trees. A number of small birds with bright yellow breasts alighted on the branches, singing at one another. She turned to face the Doctor, who was looking at her with furrowed brows.

“Doctor- wow. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You never will. The trees only grow this far north. This subspecies grows only on this island. And they need fire, to survive. Every few years I have to do a controlled burn of the oldest trees to refresh the forest. And the birds, they can’t reproduce without the trees.”

“This is what you brought me here for? You want to save these birds?” Not what she would have guessed.

“Yes.” The word was whispered. She had not taken him for the shy sort, but now that they were out in a place like this she could feel that he was vulnerable in at least one unexpected way.

Clara sighed. She’d gone and fallen for the cause, like always. She’d been a sucker for a good underdog fight since long before law school. “Alright. There’s a way- I can call up an old classmate, ask some questions. I think I can get up to speed. I’ll try to help you save your island.”

He didn’t need words to thank her. That look, the way the relief flooded his stern, lined face, was enough.  

Just as her day had finally, firmly turned around Clara noticed the dark clouds again. They had closed the distance to the island and the sun disappeared. She was about to propose they go back down the hill when, with a loud crack, the rain began to pour.


	4. Downpour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor have to make a mad dash for safety in the face of an oncoming storm.

His lawyer had to think he was absolutely out of his mind. First he shows up at her office asking about a seldom-used legal doctrine. Then in the span of a few hours he encourages her to take on a massive corporation from her office in a village so small it doesn’t appear on most maps, buys her lunch, gets her sea sick, takes her on a hike while she’s wearing a suit, and then traps her in a heavy downpour.

“Perfect,” Clara muttered, eyes cast toward the sky. “And you didn’t mention the impending thunderstorm because?”

Did she really think he planned for things to happen this way? “Because this island is so small it doesn’t even have a weather station. And it has a grand total of one sentient occupant, who you’re looking at.”

“Occupant. Right. So, which way to your place?”

“I thought you wanted to get back to your office?”

“No- I want to get dried off. I’m not getting back on that boat in this storm.”

A bolt of lightning flashed in the distance. He started counting. Before he could reach fifteen the thunder roared. “Good point- that strike was less than three miles off. We need to move, quickly. Follow me.”

The Doctor led her back down the hill and though a small clearing. The ground was becoming increasingly muddy, caking his boots which were growing heavier by the moment. His vision was blurring in the heavy downpour. He turned to check on Clara to discover she wasn’t behind him. “CLARA!”

“Back here! My foot is stuck!”

She was definitely not going to take him as a client now. “Hang on!”

The Doctor jogged back through the gale, hoping to reach her before the lightning could reach them both. She was struggling mightily, her left leg coated up to knee with thick mud.

“Raise your arms, and brace against me!” he shouted over the storm. He slipped his arms under hers and gave a firm tug, lifting her out of the mud. Sans shoes, of course. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he placed her on more solid ground then turned his back to her. “Hop up!”

“What!” Clara shouted, illuminated for a moment by another lightning strike, so close he could smell the ozone it generated.

“Clara, the lightning is getting closer. You have no shoes, and the ground it full of mud, stones, and who knows what else. Get on my back.”

As another clap of thunder roared. Clara scrambled up the Doctor’s back, clasping her arms around his shoulders. He hooked his hands under her knees and ran, hard as he could, toward his cabin.

A few moments later they reached the entrance. He’d never been so grateful to see the little place. He pulled open the door and they tumbled inside, coated in mud, sweat, and rain.

“Clara, I am so, so sorry,” he started. But she was doubled over, gasping, barely inside the door. Was she hurt? Had he hired and killed his lawyer all in one day? He rushed to her side. Kneeling down, he reached for her neck, trying to get a pulse, only to discover she was- laughing. Clara Oswald had nearly been struck by lightning, and she was laughing. “Are you… ok?” he asked, not sure whether she was amused or having a very unusual seizure.

“Fine, fine,” she waived him off. “I’m a bit of an adrenaline junky and wow, I haven’t felt anything like that in years!”

She was maddening. Try to pay her to represent him in court, annoy her. Nearly get her killed, please her beyond all reason. Clara clearly had a few wires crossed.

“Let me find you a towel.”

“I’d rather you find me a shower, actually. And some clothes to borrow, please and thank you.”

He ushered her into his bathroom and pointed out the linen closet. While she showered he dug out the smallest of his pajama pants, which were still sure to be far too long, a shrunk and faded t-shirt, and, for good measure, his favorite jumper. The island tended to cool off quickly after a storm, he reasoned, and with all they’d been through he wanted her to be warm. He pushed the bathroom door open a crack, slid the clothes in, and went to build a fire. Trapped with a lawyer with a death wish- it was going to be a long night.


	5. The Doctor's House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara makes herself at home in the Doctor's cabin and discovers she has more of a deadline than she initially believed.

Ten minutes after climbing into the shower at the Doctor’s house Clara’s heart was still racing. She hadn’t had that much excitement since she sold her motorbike when she moved to Kirtland. It was exhilarating. Ordinarily she was very constrained and orderly. It felt so good to put it all on the line once in a while.

She tried to tell herself that the “still racing” part didn’t have something to do with the man who had rescued her. After all, he’d also gotten her into this situation. So he didn’t deserve any credit, obviously. Actually, he kind of owed her- so she used some of his shampoo to get the mud out of, well, everywhere. It had a pleasant smell, like eucalyptus and lavender.  

After she was thoroughly washed she stepped out into the bathroom and immediately felt a chill. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees since the storm started. Fortunately the Doctor had provided something warm to wear. She toweled off and pulled on the clothes he’d left for her, pulling the faded black sweater over her still-damp hair. Looking around she found a comb by the sink. “When in Rome” she muttered to herself, dragging it through her damp hair.

She exited the bathroom and began to take a proper look around for the first time. The place was smaller on the outside. The interior was surprisingly cozy, not overly large but certainly not cramped quarters. The bathroom had been directly off the entryway. She strolled down a hallway with a bedroom on each side and into an open kitchen and dining area. The walls were lined with an odd mixture of maps, concert posters, and photographs of nature scenes.

 On the far end, in what she presumed was the living room, the Doctor was bent over the fireplace. He was still coated in mud and wow, she hadn’t noticed how tight his trousers were before. He really had a nice ass. Her mind should not be going there, she chided herself. Not getting involved with clients was maybe an even more important ethics rule than “be competent.” She thought they’d over stated its importance during law school but then again, she’d never been tempted to violate it before. And she was probably only feeling that way because there were so few single men in Kirtland. If the Doctor was even single- she hadn’t thought to ask. No ring, at any rate. She handled divorces, she reasoned, so she always noticed wedding bands, or the lack of them.

“Rude to stare,” she heard him tease as she snapped back to attention.

“I wasn’t…”                       

“I’m just having you on. Anyway, I’m going to go rinse the mud off. You can warm up here if you like.”

“Thanks.” She watched him retreat, taking in more of the room. A low couch faced the fireplace. An electric guitar stood reverently in one corner. She leafed through some papers on his end table, tucking the ones that looked relevant to the eminent domain claim under her arm.

It was nice here but seemed a bit lonely. She wondered how he got electricity this far off the mainland. And internet service. And cell phone service. Her phone! Abandoning the papers, she ran for the bathroom where her skirt lay discarded, phone still in the right pocket. Shona was going to murder her for not checking in. She flung the door open to reveal the Doctor, dripping wet, in the act of wrapping himself in a towel. For a split second her eyes lingered on the trail of grey hair running down his chest then, blushing furiously, she turned on her heel. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t see anything!”

“Good. But we’re even now, right? I almost got you killed and you almost saw me naked. Equally embarrassing.”

She had to hand it to him, he was quick. “Agreed,” she said, grinning and turning around again.

“Still not dressed,” he reminded her.

“Sorry- I just remembered- my phone.”

“Ah. Give me a moment to get decent, and I’ll take a look.” He slid past her and into the bedroom on the left, emerging a moment later dressed plaid pajamas and a t-shirt advertising a concert in 1989.

“What do you know about water damaged electronics?”

The Doctor smiled. “Not as thick as I look. You know SonicGlass?”

“The virtual reality overlay thingie?”

“No, the _augmented_ reality wearable. Do try to keep up.”

“Regardless, yes, I’m familiar. So you’re such a techie you have a pair?” Clara thought back to the Wayfarers she’d seem him wearing, what, just this morning?

“No, I invented them,” he said mundanely.

Well, at least now she knew he wouldn’t have trouble with her fee for the case. “Oh- guess you know what you’re doing then.”

“Guess so.”

They made their way to the living room and sat at opposite ends of the couch by the fire. While he examined her phone she paged through the documents she’d picked up earlier. Especially the one titled “certificate of service." Which was dated several weeks back!

“Ah Doctor, I think we’ve got a problem.”

“That we do Clara. This thing is completely drowned. I’ll take the components out to dry but I can’t promise…”

“No, bigger problem. Legal problem. You do know you’ve been served, right?”

“What? No, I just got a couple of letters.”

“Did someone approach you, say at the post office, and ask you to sign for one of these letters?”

“Yes but I just assumed… oh.”

“Yep. That’s service.” She flipped through a few more pages, increasingly furrowing her forehead. “Your answer is due in five days!”

“Is that considered soon?”

“I have an entirely new area of law to learn, what do you think?” Clara was frantic. She’d never had so little time to get to the bottom of such a complex matter. “You do have the internet on this rock, right?”

“Yes Clara. I’ve got electricity and most of the comforts of modern life. I designed the solar panels myself, the battery is remarkable. And the internet is satellite, a bit slow, but still effect-.” The Doctor stopped short as the room went black around him, regaining light in an instant.

“Did the lights just flicker?”

“Nothing unusual, storm and all. I’m sure it’ll hold up, I’ll go get you my laptop.”

“And candles! I don’t trust this storm, or your super solar battery.”

“Candles too, then. Are you really going to start on this now?”

“Only if you want to win, and save those trees and birds and this house. So yeah I’m going to start on this now!” She always promised zealous representation and she intended to deliver. Even after leaving the big law firm she still earned workaholic reputation.

The wind continued to howl as Clara began typing furiously, trying to access Westlaw via satellite of all things. Just as the Doctor was lighting the candles she’d requested and she was finally started on downloading a case the lights gave another shudder. This time there was no return flicker. 


	6. Fireside Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit on the longer side. Motivations are revealed. It gets a bit silly and then a bit serious.

He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or annoyed that she’d had the foresight to ask for candles. On the one hand it was insult to his solar battery system, which had rarely failed him. On the other, it had made things significantly less awkward than fumbling for torches with nothing but the fireplace to guide them.

He took a candle and went to rummage for a torch in the kitchen drawers. He heard Clara groan with frustration back in the living room. “First I get stuck out here, then I find out I have an client who doesn’t understand the basics of service, and now I can’t work. This is literally torture.”

“When was the last time you just relaxed for a few hours?” he called back at her.

“When was the last time you told someone you needed an answer and response brief in a matter of days?”

Clearly she needed to relax a bit, get some perspective. He was nervous about losing his home but he trusted her and he recognized there was nothing to be done about their lack of electricity for the moment. Impulsively, he grabbed a bottle of wine and some snacks from the refrigerator.

“Clara, listen. We’re stuck out here and there’s no way for me to restore the electricity until this storm is over. I have ice cream that’s going to melt, I’ve got some perishables that would be lovely roasted over this open fire, and I’ve got wine. What do you say about a night spent talking with a friendly face, instead of sulking about not being able to work?”

“I’d say I’ll take the sulking, thank you.”

“You are impossible.” He placed the snacks on the table, uncorked the wine, and dug into the ice cream. “Suit yourself.”

He poured himself a glass of wine, which fortunately wasn’t too bad with the ice cream. He had a point to make. She sat, crossed armed, glaring at him. “Why did you leave New York if you weren’t going to actually try to enjoy the relaxing country life anyway?”

“I enjoy it!” Clara protested. “It just takes some getting used to.”

“Hmmm.” They sat in silence for a time, listening to the rain. Just when the Doctor was starting to think the situation was getting ridiculous, Clara finally spoke.

“Is that Superman ice cream?” she glanced at the rainbow swirl on the Doctor’s spoon. “I haven’t had that since I was a kid.”

“Of course it is. They don’t have it in Scotland. I find it amusing.” He watched her watching him. “Still plenty left.”

“I'm fine, thanks,” she huffed.

“Come on, aren’t you a bit curious if it tastes how you remember?” he goaded her, grinning from across the couch.

“Fine. You win. Just this once.”

He handed her a spoon and she dug in. An hour later they were on the second bottle of wine and were seated on the rug, holding bits of bread and cheese near the fire with toasting forks.

“So seriously, why did you leave New York?” he asked her again.

She ran her fingers through her hair. He noticed it had dried slightly wavy in the warmth of the fire, not into the polished looking coiffure she’d sported earlier in the day. “That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all night.” He leaned back against the couch. She followed him, scooting a bit closer. He felt his stomach drop at their proximity.

“That’s too true. Well, you are right in a sense. I left New York because I knew I needed to reorder my priorities.” She paused for a moment. “I had a fiancé. Danny Pink. The kindest man I’ve ever known, and I didn’t even know how kind until after he was gone.”

The Doctor turned to face her. “What happened?”

“He was a teacher. One day he was crossing a busy street to get to school and a taxi came bearing down, out of nowhere. He died on the pavement.”

She looked so small and so sad. He wanted to reach out, embrace her, give her the opportunity to hide her face in a hug. But he sensed that she wouldn’t be comfortable, so instead he just reached for her hand. He was still surprised when she let him lace her fingers with his. He gave her a small half-smile and she continued.

“I had been working so much, often 80 hours a week, trying to make partner. Danny had been patient and so sweet. At the funeral so many people came forward to tell me stories about him. A former student he’d sheltered when her parents rejected her for coming out as gay. Another student he’d sent home with snacks every day, knowing there wasn’t any food in the student’s home. Yet another student who had barely spoken English but said Danny had tutored him to bring him up to speed. Parents who said Danny was the only reason their children hadn’t left school. Dozens of stories. And I never took the time to know any of it. I had this perfect person and I never even took the time to really know him.”

He gave her hand a squeeze, tears threatening to form in his own eyes. She went on.

“And then my grandmother passed, two weeks later. She was a wonderful woman, Grandma Winnie.” Clara smiled. “Oswald, Winnifred in law school, where she picked up her nickname, Oswin. She left me the house, which still had a home office on the first floor though she hadn’t practiced in a decade. I knew I couldn’t keep living how I had been. And I couldn’t stay in the city without Danny. So I came here.”

“That’s a lot of loss for someone so young. I’m so sorry.”

Clara sniffled. “I’m alright, really. Mostly. I lost my mom in my teens so it wasn’t anything new just- it doesn’t get easier, like experiencing anything else a second time, you know? Grief compounds.”

He did know. And here, in his dark living room, with this new- friend, maybe? He couldn’t believe how much he ached to be at least that. Here with her, he felt he might be able to share more than he had in years.

“I do know,” he said, unsteadily.

She looked up at him. “I thought you might. There’s a look, around the eyes.” She reached up, tracing around his face a bit. “Who did you lose?”

He took a deep breath. “More than just who, where. I lost my parents at age 8. I was taken from the small island where we lived, Gallifrey, and sent to live with my aunt in Glasgow. By the time I made it back to the island I was 18. And it was gone. I mean the rock was still there but that’s about it. Strip mined. The community relocated. I’d spent ten years holding onto that beautiful place, the last physical connection to my parents, and it was just gone. I got a doctorate, researched for bit, and produced a few patents. A few years back I sold them for enough to live on and went traveling, looking for islands to save. And then I found this one.”

He suddenly found himself wrapped up in the arms of a very teary young woman. He enfolded her in his own, letting her tears run down his shoulder and soak into his jumper. She smelled like rain and his shampoo. It was comforting and confusing. After a moment he spoke again. “Thought you said you didn’t do heart?”

“Oh shut up. You do realize now I’ll never be able to stop working on this, right? For your parents, and for Gallifrey.”

“And you know I’ll never be able to stop asking you not to work too hard, right? For Danny, and for your mum and Gran.”

They released each other but she kept hold of his hand. “I suppose I’m stuck with you as a friend now.”

“I suppose you are,” he replied, his heart threatening to burst with emotion. She surprised him at every turn.

They spent the rest of the night in considerably better spirits, talking about all sorts of interests and experiences. He discovered she’d never been overseas but wanted to travel, that she’d once owned a motorbike, and that she shared his passion for amateur astronomy. He revealed that he played guitar, that his guest room had a chalkboard instead of a bed (he preferred it over pen and paper for working on new inventions and never had overnight guests), and that he loved sweets of all sort. When she drifted off to sleep by the fire he blew out the candles, carried her to his own bed, and covered her with the tartan blanket he’d taken from his parents’ house, all those years ago. He returned to the living room, extinguished the remaining embers of the fire, and fell asleep on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Superman ice cream is a Great Lakes thing- a sort of tie-dye colored, fruity flavor popular with children or, in the Doctor's case, overgrown children of all ages.


	7. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy and Mickey meet the Doctor. Clara gets some work done and is rewarded with a bedtime story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance this is a (probably unnecessarily) long chapter. I couldn't choose a good place to change perspectives, and I really want the next events to be from the Doctor's perspective.

Clara awoke on a soft bed in a room lit by the pale morning sunlight. Her first instinct was to snuggle back into the pleasant smelling bedding. What was that, lavender and eucalyptus? The scent jolted her awake. The Doctor. This must be his bed. Which meant the previous day had actually happened. Which meant it was Saturday and she had until 4pm Tuesday to file a very important brief. Her feet were on the floor before she could even realize that she also had a hangover. Wine and ice cream, not her best dinner choice.

“DOCTOR!” she called.

“There you are, I thought you’d never wake up.” He bustled into the room carrying a tray stacked with toast, coffee, and, mercifully, a bottle of ibuprofen. “Good morning, Clara.”

Clara shook out two pills, chased them with the coffee, and got back to business. “Good morning. Ready to leave when you are. I’ve got a lot of research to do. Gather all the papers from Nestene Energy and let’s go.

“Hold on there, boss. You don’t even have shoes at the moment. Take a moment, have some toast, and then we can get to work.”

“Filing deadline. Not filing suggestion. Deadline as in if we don’t meet this deadline Nestene will get a default judgment and you’ll be kicked off your island.”

“Clara, relax. I’m going to go dig your shoes out of the mud. You sit down and eat this. I’ll get the boat ready and have you home by noon at the latest.”

Clara could not argue as she did need shoes to get back to the boat. And the Doctor did not seem willing to take “hurry” as an answer. Reluctantly, she took a piece of toast and sat back down on the bed. After an eternity of waiting the Doctor finally reappeared. Her shoes were absolutely ruined but would have to do if she were going to get back to the mainland anytime soon. Her phone had faired considerably better and was currently functioning normally. She thanked the Doctor, gathered her muddy suit, and they set off.

Fortunately the Doctor provided a small, battery-powered fan this time so she was able to reach the mainland with minimal chance of losing her breakfast. As they pulled into the dock Clara discovered a new worry. Amy’s police cruiser was parked next to the boat launch, and the woman herself was shouting orders to someone on a boat anchored nearby. “Get the lead out, we have to go see what she’s gotten herself into.” Clara groaned.

“Search and rescue mission?” the Doctor asked. “I suppose that storm was a bad one, hope they find whoever it is.”

“Oh they will.”

“What?”

Their conversation was interrupted as Amy realized who had just pulled into the dock. “Call it off, Mickey! She’s right here.” Amy glanced down at Clara’s odd outfit. “Clearly she was just having a night out that got a little too crazy.”

“Amy- this isn’t what it looks like,” Clara pleaded. “Shona called you, didn’t she?”

“Well, you went off with a strange man in a boat and then you didn’t check in. Meanwhile, the shore was flooding and the tornado sirens were going off. What did you expect her to do?”

“Fair point. Anyway, the Doctor is a client of mine. I went out to see his land, since that’s the subject of his legal problem, and the storm caught us by surprise. The Doctor was just leaving to go back to the island, right?”

“Actually, the storm wiped out some of my groceries- I’m going to see Wilf.”

“Not helping,” Clara hissed at the Doctor through gritted teeth.

“And you haven’t even introduced us! Hello, Amy is it?” The Doctor glanced at her nametag. “Or, Officer Pond if you prefer! Yes, Clara is helping me with a n issue I’m having hanging onto the rights to my island.”

“Oh but you’re Scottish- that’s great! My parents came from Aberdeen.” Amy winked at Clara. “He’s Scottish!”

“I’m aware, thank you. Really, I’ve got so much work to do, if we could just-”

“Mickey, get down here, Clara’s got a man with her, and he’s Scottish!”

“I haven’t got anyone with me, I’m just trying to get home to do some work.”

But by then Mickey Smith, the only other officer in town, had stepped up to the launch. “Pleased to meet you Mr.?”

“Doctor John Smith, but most often called “the Doctor,” thank you. And the pleasure is mine. Clara hadn’t told me the town had such a crack team of officers, ready to rescue maidens stranded off-shore at a moment’s notice.” He was clearly enjoying this, which annoyed Clara even more.

“Officer Mickey Smith at your service. And we’d do anything for our Clara, even if it means looking the other way during her “walk of shame.”

Clara covered her face with her hands. A driving headache, an unpleasant boat ride, uncomfortable shoes still half-filled with dried mud, and now the insinuation that she’d spent the previous night doing who-knows-what with her latest client. She was ready to die of frustration and embarrassment.

The Doctor was not helping things. “You still need my number, Clara.”

“You don’t even have his number!” Amy whooped. Mickey grinned at her.

Clara handed her phone to the Doctor, who programed his number and returned it to her. “I really should clarify- Clara hasn’t done anything improper. She’s been very helpful, already.”

“Ok, ok, I guess we’ve humiliated Clara enough for one day,” Amy finally admitted, breaking up the jovial group. “I’ll take our runaway home.”

“My house is right there Amy, completely unnecessary,” said Clara, even as she found herself being forcefully led by the arm into Amy’s cruiser.

“Ok, spill. Tell me everything,” Amy said as soon as the doors to the car had closed. Amy, Clara, and Martha, the town’s doctor, had been close friends as children and had all ended up returning to Kirtland as adults. Amy was married to Martha’s nurse, Rory, and Martha was married to Amy’s partner on the force, Mickey. Things had worked out very neatly for them. Clara would be envious if they weren’t all such good people.

“There’s nothing to spill. Like I said, he’s my client.”

“He’s a cute boy Clara, we don’t get many of those around here.”

“He’s my _client_ , Amy. And he’s not a boy, he must be fifty, at least.”

“That didn’t stop you with Nina.”

“Nina was a decade ago. And she was a mistake, you know that.”

“Yeah but not because of the age difference!”

Thankfully they’d pulled into Clara’s driveway. “Thanks for the ride Amy but I’ve got to get to work.”

“Suit yourself. But I’m telling Martha.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” But Amy was already backing out. She always wanted the last word.

Clara immediately kicked off her muddy shoes and went to have another shower. She added the Doctor’s clothes to her laundry pile, intending to clean and return them promptly. But as she lifted his sweater over her head she hesitated. It had that wonderful wood smoke, eucalyptus, and lavender smell she’d grown fond of over the last day. Had it really been only a day? She felt as though she’d known the Doctor all her life. Probably because she’d drunkenly explained her whole life to him last night. There’s that regret again. Still, the sweater was spared the hamper and instead tossed over the back of a chair in her bedroom.

There were other obligations on her calendar for Monday, so she really only had Saturday and Sunday to get this thing drafted. And there was a pre-trial conference scheduled for Friday, probably so Nestene Energy could get that default. She’d use it to open discovery instead, so it added another set of obligations to an already full plate. She settled into her desk and began searching.

Over the next few hours Clara must have placed about ten calls to Kate Stewart, an expert in government takings she had fortunately met at a state bar mixer last month. Kate had been kind enough to email her a few example briefs. Though none were directly on point they came close enough that she felt she could be up to speed for the first hearing. She emailed Kate an affiliation agreement and they’d hammered out the details easily because Kate was so interested in the precedent the case might set. Nestene Energy was a public utility and could be delegated government authority to do a taking in the public interest, like it might do to run a voltage transmission line. Which, according to the filing, they intended to do. But it also seemed like mere pretext, electrifying the island as an excuse to get to the natural gas that lay beneath the land. Clara had the difficult job of teasing out the distinctions on a case of first impression, never an easy task.

The burden was technically on Nestene Energy but Clara knew it didn’t matter much. Judge Kovarian felt the community needed more economic development and was likely to do as she was told by a corporation as large as Nestene Energy. Especially as she wanted to run for the state supreme court and would need donors. Only her fear of being reversed on appeal might constrain her.

At 11 pm Clara was jolted out of her research haze by the doorbell. On the other side of the peephole stood the Doctor, carrying a paper bag and grinning at the door. “Good evening Clara Oswald!”

“What are you doing here? I could have been asleep!”

“Were you?”

“No.” She opened the door.

“And that’s why I’m here. I’m also guessing you didn’t each lunch or dinner?”

“Right again,” she reluctantly answered.

“Salad.”

“Sorry?”

“The last three meals you’ve eaten you’ve eaten with me. And aside from a single slice of tomato yesterday afternoon you haven’t had any vegetables. Or any fruit, aside from the artificial flavoring kind. So I brought salad. Or, rather, the ingredients for salad. Can’t have a vitamin deficient lawyer.”

This was probably crossing a line. But she was hungry, it was late enough that all the restaurants in town had closed, and she sure didn’t have the energy to cook. “Fine, kitchen’s that way,” she gestured. She sat back down at her computer.

The next half hour was particularly productive as she found a way to structure her argument about pretext and drafted a retainer for the Doctor. Before she knew it he was tapping on her shoulder. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Wait, business first. I haven’t had you sign a retainer yet.” She held out the freshly printed contract. Without glancing anywhere but the signature line the Doctor signed it with a flourish. Clara groaned. “You have to read it!”

“I read it!”

“No, you didn’t. Do you even know what you just agreed to? You promised me five hundred thousand dollars and your firstborn child.”

“Your mistake Clara, I haven’t got a firstborn and it’s a bit late to get started on that now.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “I always do a fake retainer at first, because if you sign something you should read it, and I like my clients to understand that. Five hundred thousand is a bit steep, Doctor. Five times what I earned in the entire last year steep. And you aren’t too old to have children, my college friend Rose’s parents just had a baby last year and they’ve got to be about your age.”

“Are you volunteering?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. She flushed pink, turning back to her computer monitor. Why did he have to have such a quick sense of humor?

“Here, I’m printing one with a more reasonable rate. Without the obligation to produce any children, thank you.”

“If it suits you.” He signed the revised retainer and wrote her a check for the initial payment. “What if we have to appeal?”

“You still didn’t read it. Clause four. It gives you the option to switch counsel or pay me to continue.”

“It’ll always be you. We’re in this for the long-haul.”

“Wait and see how much I can mess up this trial before you make too many long-term plans.”

They walked into the eat-in kitchen together and sat at the small table. Clara couldn’t remember the last time she’d bother to eat at the table. She usually ate at her desk or, rarely, she and Shona would take a walk with their sandwiches. Clara told the Doctor about Kate and the Doctor talked about his visit with Donna, Lee, and Wilf.

As they finished eating the Doctor gestured to the kitchen. “So, lunch and dinner for tomorrow are all ready, packed in containers in your refrigerator. For breakfast I’ve left yogurt, hope you like it, but if not there’s enough fruit for a decent smoothie.”

Clara’s heart fluttered. “This really isn’t something clients normally do for lawyers, Doctor. I’m grateful but this isn’t necessary.”

“It is something friends do for friends in times of stress, though. Especially when one friend is benefiting from the other friend taking on such stressful work.”

Clara sighed. “I thought I was the bossy one. You’re always going to wear me down, aren’t you?”

“Most likely. Now off to bed, it’s after midnight!”

“I’ve got a few more things to take care of tonight but thanks again for the break.”

“Clara, you and I both know if you sit down at that computer again you’ll be up all night working. You aren’t twenty-two anymore. If you haven’t noticed yet, sleep becomes a bit more important as you approach thirty. Voice of experience here. Get some rest.”

“Don’t you want to win?”

“Absolutely, but I also don’t want you killing yourself in the process.”

“I’ve got too much on my mind at the moment to stand half a chance of falling asleep. I close my eyes and I see walls of case text.”

“How about this- you go upstairs and get settled in. I’ll tidy up down here and come upstairs for a moment. We can talk about the case some, get some of that information out of your mind.”

“Sometimes it does help me make connections if I talk about the material out loud.”

“There you are, see you in a moment.”

Clara climbed into bed. About five minutes later the Doctor joined her, pulling the chair at her vanity closer to the bedside. The chair with his sweater on the back.

“Oh, my jumper!”

“Yeah, I know I ought to give it back. It’s just that it’s very soft, where’d you get it?”

“Scotland- so keep it. Add it to the retainer if you must,” he joked. “I’ve got plenty of others like it.”

“Thanks. So, about the case.”

“Changed my mind. If we get to talking about the case I know you’ll insist on getting up and getting back to it. Tricked you!”

“Come on Doctor, this is what I live for!”

“Didn’t we just discuss last night how you want to change that? I owe it you, and to your Mr. Pink, to make sure you take some time for yourself. Including sleep.”

“Ok, one condition. You tell me a story about Gallifrey.”

The Doctor paused to consider. “Ok, you got it.” He spent the next hour describing the island in detail, everything from the composition of the soil (rocky) to the color of the sunset (deep red). Eventually Clara drifted off to sleep and the Doctor, for the second time in the last 48 hours, found himself nodding off in a piece of furniture certainly not intended for sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the joke about a signing over a firstborn child, Clara will not be getting unexpectedly pregnant in this story. So no worries if you find that sort of thing off-putting.


	8. The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor have a night out before the trial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best showing but I'm challenging myself to do a chapter per day so here we are!

The Doctor left before the sun was up, partly out of embarrassment but also in an effort to give Clara some space. He hadn’t even intended to return that night, really. But after visiting the Nobles and piloting his boat home he’d found he couldn’t stop worrying about her. Only twenty-four hours after meeting him she’d already revealed she was clearly addicted to stress. It was only sensible to encourage good self-care habits considering she was the only thing standing between him and losing his beloved island. That was the story he chose to believe.

He spent Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday cleaning up the island after the storm. A tree on the far side had fallen and needed to be chopped into firewood. The solar array needed to be repaired. A few roof tiles were loose, a couple of pieces of driftwood had washed ashore. He was grateful for the distraction of physical labor, and delighted that an email from Clara was waiting when he checked on Tuesday evening. In it she explained that the answers were filed and she’d done a pretrial conference with the opposing counsel, cancelling Friday’s court date. Everything was progressing as expected and trial was set a month out as they wouldn’t need long for discovery.

He spent the next month visiting her periodically, not wanting to get in her way but curious about the case. And about her. She tolerated his intermittent presence, occasionally allowing him to lead her away on a hike, for a dinner, even for a swim. The humidity and storms of August faded into the chilly mornings of September. His mild affection for her blossomed into a horribly inappropriate crush, which he’d do anything to deny.

On the evening before the trial she’d finally agreed to stop rechecking her trial brief and accompany him to a party at Donna and Lee’s home to celebrate the year’s first press of cider from their orchard. They’d arrived half an hour late, having been so lost in conversation they’d missed the turn to the Noble home and gone an extra fifteen miles out of their way.

They walked up the driveway with their heads together, giggling at some private joke.

“Look who decided to show up! What have you two been up to?” Donna gave the Doctor a knowing look.

It was his turn to be embarrassed by his friends. “We just got lost, that’s all.”

“Sure, after coming out here I-don’t-know-how-many-times last fall to help us take in the apples.” Hugging the Doctor she whispered in his ear “more like lost in Clara’s eyes.”

The Doctor blushed. As Donna hugged Clara he said “my companion here was telling me about the time she broke her arm climbing in your hay loft and I may have missed the turn.”

“Well is that so! Clara, I hope there are no hard feelings.”

“Donna, that was twenty years ago! If there were still hard feelings I’d have sued you,” Clara laughed. 

Donna and Lee threw a fantastic party. They’d built an enormous bonfire down by the lakeshore to illuminate the festivities. The Doctor and the Clara played doubles badminton, losing horribly to the much more coordinated Amy and the surprisingly competent Rory. They played hide-and-go-seek with Martha and Mickey’s toddler son, collapsing laughing into the grass when the boy discovered them fighting over who got to hide behind the barn. They snuck up into the hay loft and sailed paper airplanes down onto unsuspecting party guests. They were like two overgrown children and as the night wound down Donna made an excuse to get the Doctor alone, feigning exhaustion and asking him to help her load the emptied cider barrels into a truck.

“Besotted. Smitten. Infatuated! If I didn’t know you better I’d assume you had already made your move.”

“Donna, don’t start. We aren’t like that. Just friends.”

“I don’t think friends do what you were doing in my hay loft.”

The Doctor was genuinely confused. “Making paper airplanes?”

“Oh you are naïve, no wonder you haven’t done anything. Back when I was young the hay loft was where we used to take boys to… well, anyway, where we used to take the boys we liked. And I know my cousin Amy got up to the same thing with her friends, Clara included.”

The Doctor laughed. “Donna, I’m twenty-two years older than she is. We couldn’t be like that. I’m willing to bet her friends are not having this same conversation- more like ‘Clara, why are you so giggly with that old man? I’ve got just the man to introduce you to, his name is probably Dave or something and he’s, I don’t know, a professional lumberjack and kitten breeder, just wait-”

“Jealous of this hypothetical “Dave?””

The Doctor sighed. “Am I that transparent?”

“Plain as day to everyone except you idiots. Have you tried telling her?”

“It isn’t exactly an easy conversation. Oh by the way, I know you have this professional code to follow and you probably think I’m ancient but I fancy you, have since the moment I first saw you, and now I think I’m falling- no, Donna, don’t make me say that.”

“Afraid you already did, Spaceman.” Donna hugged him and followed it up with a smack to the back of the head. “Don’t mess this up.”

Across the lawn Martha, Amy, and Clara were seated around the fire and the topic, predictably, had turned to Clara’s romantic life.

“I’ve got just the guy, new officer a few towns over. Major muscles, minor brain cells but perfect for a little cold weather cuddling,” Amy offered.

“No thanks, not interested,” replied Clara, who was suddenly very concerned with the state of her shoelaces.

“Clara’s already got someone,” said Martha.

“No, I haven’t. And I don’t want anyone for the moment. I’m happy to focus on work, thank you.”

“Clara,” Martha started, her voice gentle. “It’s been over a year since Danny. And just when I thought I’d never see you look at anyone like that again you met the Doctor. He’s been good for you, don’t deny that.”

“Yeah, get on that!” Amy enthusiastically chimed in.

“We aren’t like that. Just friends. Sure, he flirts, but if I lose this case he’s gone. Maybe even if I win. Off to save the next island. And I have my practice here.”

“Have you considered explaining it to him? I don’t know, something like ‘hey, if you’re thinking about sticking around maybe do it because I’m crazy about you?’” Martha added.

“He isn’t normal, that sort of thing is a bit beneath him, if anything. I don’t think he operates on a regular human scale. And I don’t think he’d appreciate the age difference.”

Amy took Clara’s hand. “Consider it, at least. That’s all we’re asking.”

Clara excused herself. “I’ve got an early morning.” She got up and crossed the lawn, tugging on the Doctor’s sleeve. “Can you take me home?”

“Of course.” They quickly made their goodbyes and drove back to Clara’s house. As they had court early the next morning Clara had offered the Doctor her guest bedroom for the evening. They reached the top of the stairs at the same moment and paused. After a moment the Doctor reached down and hugged Clara. “No matter what happens tomorrow, even if I lose my home, at least I gained a fantastic friend.”

“A lifelong friend. I’ll do everything I can. And thank you for convincing me to take this case and for getting me to live a little.” She reached up and gently kissed his cheek.

The parted into separate bedrooms with one shared thought- I’m going to be completely lost without you.


	9. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara represents the Doctor in the trial with Nestene Oil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually the hardest chapter to write- they say write what you know but I spent my first two years out of law school as a trial attorney (I just recently switched to administrative law) and this was impossible for me. So instead we have a very basic version.

The morning of the trial dawned cold and clear. They dressed quietly and Clara pulled her hair into a tight bun. She refused the Doctor’s offer of coffee, citing her churning stomach. It was funny- she had done complex commercial litigation in a huge city before moving home to work as a generalist but this was the most nervous she had even been before a trial.

They drove the hour to the courthouse without much conversation, listening to Clara’s pre-trial motivation playlist. All of the peppy songs she usually used to get mentally prepared for the courtroom seemed inappropriate today but she went through the ritual, partly from superstition and partly to have anything to listen to beside her own voice.

When they arrived at the courthouse there was a half-hearted attempt at a last-minute settlement conference and then it was time to begin. Clara seated the Doctor at the Defendant’s table, took the seat next to him, and organized her notes. Because this was technically an appeal to an administrative process which allowed the eminent domain taking it was a bench trial without a jury, so mercifully she wouldn’t have to attempt voir dire in her current state.

“All rise, the Honorable Judge Kovarian presiding.”

“You may be seated. The Court calls the matter of Nestene Oil v. John Smith.”

Clara took a deep breath, stood, and began. “Attorney Clara Oswald, practice number 85465, on behalf of the Defendant John Smith who is seated to my left.”

She started shaky but over the next three hours she gained confidence. Eventually the emotion of the case fell away and she became Clara the litigator and the Doctor just another client. She was zealous in her advocacy, measured in her objections, and clever in her theories. Still, something felt wrong. Judge Kovarian seemed uninterested- she wasn’t asking her usual pointed questions. She openly yawned during Clara’s presentation of the environmental impact survey. Despite the judge’s attitude Clara thought she had made a strong showing. Perhaps Judge Kovarian was simply tired. Clara figured they had a greater than half chance of success.

When both sides finally rested Judge Kovarian spoke again. “I’ll take this case under advisement. Expect a written decision in a week or so.”

It was over. Clara felt relief, followed quickly by excitement, and chased by dread. There was no telling what was next.

“How do you think it went?” the Doctor asked her, a note of concern in his voice.

“Mmmm. Well, I know our bit was well supported. But the judge wasn’t her usual self. Ordinarily she grills me, even on relatively straightforward matters. I haven’t the faintest idea why today was different.”

The mood between them gradually lightened as they drove back to Kirtland. By the time they were pulling into Clara’s drive she didn’t want this day, initially so dreaded, to end. As the Doctor moved to get out of the car she reached for his hand. “Wait.”

He relaxed back down into the seat and turned to look at her. “Yes?”

“I just want to say, it’s been a pleasure. I didn’t want to take this case at first and then, on one of the most beautiful days of my life, you made me see the whole world differently. And I’m so grateful.” Her stomach churned again. Apparently her nerves weren’t only due to the trial.

“You were brilliant today, I mean that truly. I should be thanking you.”

“No, let me- please.” She looked up at him. “You’ve been so kind, making sure I took time away from this case. It really helped me clear my mind and focus. Let me take you out just once.”

“An evening planned by my favorite control freak?” he teased. “Well, since you’ll have planned for all possible contingencies, how can I say no?”

“Met me here. 6pm on Friday. Dress comfortably. We’ll be going for a bit of a drive.”

“See you then, Clara Oswald.”

“See you then.” She watched him walk down to the shore, her heart aching and her head spinning. What was she about to get herself into?


	10. Dark Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor finally decide to do something about their feelings.

The Doctor thought Clara was acting strangely in the car back from court but brushed it off as post-trial jitters. That still did not account for her odd behavior over the next few days. She’d called him- actually called, not emailed. Once she even borrowed Martha’s boat and joined him on the island for the day, packing a picnic and then barely speaking to him while they sat together on the shore. He appreciated the company but this was so far off her normal behavior he was starting to worry.

On Friday, the appointed date of their adventure together, she was still acting out of sorts, speaking too quickly when she spoke at all.

“How much coffee have you had Clara? Have you even been sleeping?”

“Fine, fine,” she waived him off.

“I’m driving.”

“No. My plans, I drive.”

“So give me directions! Clara you just don’t look well. Are you sure you want to do whatever it is we’re doing?” He pressed a hand to her forehead- she wasn’t feverish, though her cheeks were abnormally flushed. He began to worry over what she had planned. Knowing Clara it might be something entirely impractical given her current state. Like skydiving or bull riding. She could be a bit reckless. After much prodding she finally relented and dictated directions to him as they drove.

They arrived at a park in the middle of nowhere, not too far off the coast. Clara pulled out a blanket and a large tote bag and motioned for him to follow.  They spent the next half hour walking into the nearby woods until they reached a small clearing. Clara spread out the blanket and patted the ground next her. As he sat she produced sandwiches and a thermos from the tote bag. She raised a finger to her lips and winked at him. “Wine, but we’re on public land without a permit!”

“Ooo, naughty rebellious lawyer. What’s the occasion?”

“Just wait until the sun sets.”

They waited together, the Doctor constantly stealing glances at the beautiful, if perhaps slightly deranged woman sitting next to him. Her increased presence in his life over the last few days had done nothing to quell the aching in his heart. To see her so clearly in crisis, over something she wouldn’t explain, only made it more clear to him that he had fallen for her. Even if she wouldn’t have him in the way his heart desired he hoped she would at least let him care for her if something was as truly wrong as it seemed to be.

As the sun sank below the horizon she shoved his shoulder. “Lay back and look up,” she commanded.

The Doctor was stunned. The stars were as he had not seen them in so long, not since Gallifrey. The delicate curl of the Milky Way spread in front of them. He wondered if, given the right conditions, they might even see the northern lights. He wanted to look up forever.

“You said you like looking at the stars,” Clara said softly.

“They’re brilliant. Clara. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in at least forty years.”  Aside from you, he added, mentally.

“It’s a dark sky park. I’ve want to bring you here since, well, since the night with the storm. Our first night.” She was lying propped up on her side, looking at him.

He turned to match her. “It was a good call. Spot on, Clara Oswald.”

She leaned closer and ruffled his hair, her hand lingering on the back of his neck. “There are so many things I wanted to do with you, Doctor. I was conflicted. I talked myself in and out of this night a thousand times.”

He looked into her eyes, his heart hammering. Was she saying what he thought? Eventually he found his voice again. “And which side won?”

“I think you know that answer.” And before he could reply he felt her lips pressed firmly against his own. He reached out to her, deepening the kiss and tangling his fingers in her hair. When she pulled back a moment later he knew he must be grinning like an idiot. She smiled shyly back at him. “Was that ok?”

“Clara Oswald, I’ve wanted to do that since the moment you agreed to see the island.” At that she was on him again, chest to chest, mouth to neck, barely holding back two months’ worth of conflicted emotions that ultimately found their resolution in a resounding “yes.” Not to be outdone he snaked his arm around her waist, pulled her closer, and found her mouth again, kissing her with such joy and passion he thought his heart might leap from his chest into the stars above. They lay together in the clearing for hours, playing catchup for time wasted worrying over ethical rules, age calculations, and fear of loss.

When they finally parted they found the sun rising, drowning out the few bold stars that remained so late. They drove back to Clara’s house, stopping for coffee along the way, and collapsed together into Clara’s bed, exhausted. They fell asleep quickly, holding one another, oblivious to the realities of the world. Realities like a certain judicial opinion which was making its way to them in the back of a dusty truck at that very moment.

 

 


	11. Opinions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor get the result of the trial.

Clara woke the next morning feeling utterly content. She stretched for a moment then stood and admired the site of the Doctor asleep in her bed. Things were finally falling into an order she could appreciate.

She slowly made herself downstairs and switched on the coffee pot. She took a stack of files she needed to review out to the front porch and settled in to wait for the Doctor to wake up. A few moments later the mail truck came rolling down the street. She smiled at the sight. Certainly the previous night had been a good omen, and she was hopeful good news would be arriving soon. She walked down the steps and met the carrier at the mailbox, wished him a good morning, and retreated to examine her stack of letters.

The first few items were unremarkable- a magazine, a flyer for the town library’s music-themed fundraiser (she chuckled at “Rocktoberfest”), and a reminder that she had agreed to serve on the county bar association’s pro bono committee. The final envelope was addressed from the court. Her breath hitched as she tore open the envelope, dropping all of the other correspondence into the grass.

She scanned the page quickly, looking for the holding. She read it again- that couldn’t be right. Found for the Plaintiff? She checked the case caption again. Yes, the Doctor was the Defendant in this action. And there she was, listed as the attorney of record. No, she’d had it right the first time. She’d lost the Doctor’s case.

In a trance she returned to the house, opening the door to find the Doctor on the other side.

“Clara, about last night-”

But she could only thrust the paper at him, too numb to speak the thoughts that crowded her mind. She wanted to say I’m sorry, I messed up, I will fight this, this is wrong, I’m so, so sorry. Instead she just stared. The Doctor stared back at her, equally blank. She began to wonder, was all that had passed between them just an extension of their passion for this case? At the core, wasn’t he just a hermit? Was she just a stress addict looking for the high that impact litigation could deliver? She couldn’t feel anything, not even for him. She didn’t recognize her own voice when she spoke. “I’ll call you. When the appeal is ready.”

“Right.” And he walked away, down to the shore and out of sight.

Left alone she decided it was high time she refocus. She had let her feelings for the case become confused with her feelings for him, that had to be it. Settling in, she fired off emails to Shona (be in early Monday, hold me to this schedule) and Kate (we lost, send any ideas for the appeal). She started fresh, looking at the entire matter anew.

Over the next several weeks she buried herself in work, keeping up her practice during the day and obsessively working on the Doctor’s case at night. He had only tried to contact her once, a phone call she had let go to voicemail. The message he left was bare, a single word. “Updates?” She’d replied by email, using the formal tone she used with most clients. At some point the numbness had worn off and she’d began to ache with missing him. But she reminded herself, each time her heart clenched- if he felt that way for her than surely he’d have done more than place a single call. He had left without any conversation, probably already regretting that they’d spent the evening before wrapped up in one another. Regret over his distorted relationship with her and the shoddy job she must have done handling his case. She didn’t think she could repair the former but with the later she at least had a shot. She owed him that much, if nothing else.

Martha and Amy noticed, of course, and tried harder than ever to include her in their families and activities. Clara made excuses where should could, only giving in when Amy threatened to write her a citation for her tinted car windows if she didn’t come over. Clara refused to break up the neatly married pairs when Rory suggested a game of euchre. Instead she hovered behind Amy, scrutinizing her choices. After the third time Clara lambasted her for calling the wrong suit trump Amy had clearly had enough.

“Clara, if you want to play, play! No one likes a control freak backseat player.”

“Thought you might like the advice.”

“No, you thought you’d make me miserable because you’re miserable. What’s going on with you? Are you really that broken hearted that Scottish Captain Planet went back to his own world?” Clara’s face crumbled into a sob.

“Your big mouth, Amy, look what you’ve done to her!” Rory spoke up. “Clara, it’s ok, really.”

Once the tears finally came they were hard to control. Clara openly wept, wrapped in Martha’s arms. Amy stood over them, alternately apologizing for bringing up the Doctor and threatening to sail out to the island and give him a piece of her mind.

Finally, Mickey asked the question on all their minds. “What actually happened between you?”

Clara recounted the entire story, from the muddy race into his house, to their lunches that stretched into late nights. When she reached the day they’d traveled to the dark sky park a fresh wave of tears arrived, followed by a new string of threats from Amy. When she’d finally finished speaking Martha began rubbing circles in her back, willing her to regain steady breath.

“And the worst part is, I didn’t even realize it then, but I think I loved him. I’m an idiot.”

“Clara, you can’t control who you love,” Martha gently reminded her. “And if things don’t work out between you, that’s ok, because it took courage to let yourself love someone again after Danny.”

As soon as Clara could convince her friends she was alright she left, driving home alone in the darkness of a cold October night. She saw a shooting star and went for broke with a whole string of wishes. She wished for a time machine, so she could quit her old job a year early and bring Danny here to live a long life together on the shore. She wished for a distraction, something to quiet her mind when her thoughts strayed from her work and into her feelings for the Doctor. She wished for strength, whether to tell off him off or tell him she loved him, she wasn’t sure. Most of all she wished, with everything she could, for an idea that would win this appeal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really leaning into the Michigan references here! Yes, tinted windows without a prescription are technically not permitted here. And euchre is a card game, frequently played at tailgates, hunting camps, and grandparent's homes statewide.


	12. The Lone Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor experiences a return to life without Clara Oswald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conflict between the characters, not my strong suit. Enough that I'm not sure I entirely buy that they would misunderstand each other to the point of not contacting one another but they are both rather stubborn so I'm going to leave it as is.

Waking up in Clara Oswald’s bed had excited him, confused him, and shamed him all at once. He’d let things go as far as he’d dreamed with her but that meant a real conversation and he wasn’t always great at those. Clara’s side of the bed was cool, so he determined she must be downstairs, likely already at work. He descended the stairs, hoping to distract her with the promise of an adventure, but found her sheet-white and mute in the doorway. She thrust a piece of paper at him, her eyes large but blank.

He read the letter slowly, trying to understand. Clara had seemed confident at the end of the trial. But they’d lost? He needed some time to think. Mercifully Clara had dismissed him, promising to call. He headed home.

Once back on the island he began to question everything. Had he distracted her too much with their day trips? She’d looked at him as though he were a stranger. Maybe she needed space too, she said she’d call him when she was ready.  So, he waited. Once, in a moment of weakness, he’d called her. The phone rang a long time, then her voicemail picked up. He was nervous. He managed to get out “update?” before the machine beeped again, ending his recording. She hadn’t called back. Instead, he’d gotten a formal email, maybe even something written by Shona on her behalf.

He hated how much that hurt. Even more he hated himself for letting it hurt him.

Alone and unable to occupy his time, he eventually came ashore to help Donna and Lee with their harvest. Toiling among the trees was chilly and tricky work but it required little conversation, which pleased him. That didn’t mean Donna didn’t try, chattering away at him.

“What’s going on with you?” she’d ask, several times a day.

“I’m fine,” he’d grunt back.

Eventually she was done taking that as an answer. “But really, something happen with you and Clara?”

“No,” he said bitterly, scowling in her direction. “I’ve a headache from your never-ending commentary on this and that, that’s all.”

“Could have fooled me, sunshine. I know you’re lying. Lee, don’t you think the Doctor’s acting funny?”

Lee shrugged. “He’s always like this to me.”

“Well he usually knows better than to be so rude towards me.”

“Maybe he’s just tired.”

“Nah, when he’s tired he’s less grumpy and whinier.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Oh yes, with him the grumpy moods are the quiet ones.  The whiny moods are sort of nagging. And then there’s the angry moods, where he starts shouting.”

“Shut up, shut up, shuttity up!” the Doctor roared at last. “Maybe he doesn’t like it when you speak about him like he’s not present.”

“There’s that angry mood. And maybe if you don’t want to us to speak like that you could try engaging in the conversation!”

“Like I said, headache. Going home now. See you around.”

“Wait, Doctor!” Donna called after him. “Remember you’ve promised to play in the library’s “axe battle.” The fundraiser. This Saturday. And you get more use out of that place than anyone who doesn’t live in the town proper really ought to, so you kind of have to be there.”

The Doctor sighed. “Yes, I remember. See you around _Saturday_ , then,” he said with contempt, already retreating from the orchard.


	13. Rocktoberfest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corny name for the type of oddball festival often found in northern Michigan. Clara and the Doctor reconcile and Clara gets an idea.

After the disastrous euchre night Clara loathed the thought of leaving her house but, as usual, her friends persisted. Promising her music, wine, and books she’d finally relented and agreed to join them at Rocktober Fest in late October. After all, she was a patron of the small local branch and this would give her an opportunity to donate some money. Amy and Mickey were both registered for a polar bear plunge- whoever had more money donated in their name would have to strip down and jump into the rapidly chilling lake at the end of the evening. Clara wasn’t going to miss her chance to put $50 on Amy’s misery. And maybe another $20 on Mickey, just to even up the odds.

She needed the distraction anyway. She and Kate, even with Kate’s army of partners, associates, and interns, had not been able to identify the fatal flaw in Clara’s argument from the first trial. It seemed she should have won to anyone who reviewed the pleadings. Clara had even requested a transcript of the hearing- no major errors she could identify. But judges did not make decisions arbitrarily and if the appeals judge saw the same problems Judge Kovarian had seen Clara would be in trouble again. The court would give the trial judge deference.

Martha and Mickey had arranged for their son to stay with his grandparents for the evening so they were eager to enjoy the festivities. Martha immediately steered Clara to the wine and beer tent, securing a couple of glasses and relaxing in the cool breeze. After a while they heard the opening chords of the centerpiece “axe battle,” where local guitarists would show off their skills with the one raising the most money crowned the champion. They rushed to the stage only to find all of the seats taken. Instead they stood off to one side, listening as high school students played awkward renditions of modern pop songs and a few older men and women who took up the classics.

Clara was distracted, watching the sun sink down below the horizon, when she heard an unmistakable opening riff. Pretty Woman. She looked around, trying to see who the fellow Roy Orbison fan was and what they were doing in her small town. Much to her horror the stage was now occupied by none other than the Doctor, his dark Wayfarers facing the audience, his hands running carefully over an electric guitar. She ducked behind Martha.

“Do you think he saw me?”

“Don’t see how he could see anything with those shades on.”

Still, Clara thought it would be best to get some space. Telling Martha she needed some air, she wandered down to the shore and seat on a bench near the boat launch. Willing herself not to cry, she went over in her head all the reasons she was better off without him. She muttered softly to herself, “abrasive. Confusing. Somehow both overbearing and inattentive.”

“Being a bit harsh on yourself.”

She turned to find the Doctor standing behind her, facing the lake. “So I take it you saw me?”

“When do I not see you? May I?” he gestured vaguely at the bench.

“Public bench. And besides that, you’re still my client, unless you’ve forgotten to tell me otherwise.”

“No, still your client, unless you’ve likewise forgotten.”

“So.”

“So.”

“Why didn’t you call?” they asked at the same moment.

“Because I thought you needed space,” said Clara

“Because I thought you said you’d call me,” said the Doctor.

“We’re both idiots.”

“Half right.”

“Can you try not being a defensive ass for just a moment?”

“I didn’t say you were the idiot.”

For the first time in weeks she felt like her heart was beating again. Tentatively, she reached out and took his hand. “I am sorry, you know.”

“So am I. I just thought, when we lost, you needed time to prepare the appeal so I’d leave you to it. And you said you’d call. But when I called you didn’t answer.”

“And I thought maybe we’d only cared for each other because we were both caught up in this cause. When I realized the truth, that it was about more than the work for me, I thought you must have reached the opposite conclusion. And I thought you were angry that I’d failed you.”

“Clara, you did what you could. And do you really think I care for you so little that losing would make a difference?”

She resisted the urge to give in and kiss him in that instant. Instead, she continued down the line of inquiry they’d opened. “So, what if? We never discussed, what if? What if we lose again? What if you can’t stay on Jack Pine Isle?”

“Well,” he said, slowly. “Two options. One, we run away together. Two, I settle on the mainland and try my damnedest to stop the fracking by alternate means. Maybe not quite legal means. Might do well to have an attorney in-house at that point.” He winked at her.

“So you won’t forget me?”

“Ok, I take back what I said. You really are the idiot here. I promise, I’m not going anywhere unless you come with me.”

Her chance to reply was cut off as he leaned over and cupped her face, gently kissing her. When they parted he cautiously asked her “how’s that sound?”

“Pretty wonderful. Although I’d have chosen just about anywhere else for this conversation to take place.”

“Why’s that?”

“The boat launch has a name. Kovarian Boat Launch. The area’s been owned by her family for ages, they grant an easement to the town for the launch. That dreadful excuse for a judge is the last person I want to be thinking about right now.”

“Well, at least it’s being properly defiled.” The Doctor gestured at Amy who was running down the beach, bikini clad and chased by Mickey, Martha, and Rory. “Looks like Amy’s going for a dip.”

Clara laughed, aching with a sensation she hadn’t experienced in close to a month. “That’s perfect.” Then, suddenly, she had it. “Doctor, take me home.”

“Clara, I’m pleased, but we’ve only just made up. And I sort of want to see if she manages to drag your other friends into the water. And I sort of want to toss you in.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I think I’ve just figured out how we can save your home.”


	14. The Settlement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Clara, and Kate resolve the case. Clara has one more surprise for the Doctor.

A few weeks later the Doctor sat stiffly between Clara and a middle aged blonde woman who had introduced herself as Kate Stewart. Clara had insisted on his presence at this meeting, what she had insisted would be a successful settlement conference.

The attorney for Nestene Energy was a sour looking woman who introduced herself as Ms. Delphox. “Good morning. I’m here, as required, to entertain whatever settlement offer you’re going to make. I’ll have you know I’m not authorized to accept anything other than dismissal of your appeal.”

“Understood,” Kate responded. “However, we’ve come across some new information that may change your client’s mind.”

“Well, let me have it then.”

Kate turned to Clara and nodded.

“I’d like to begin by reviewing the proposal your client submitted for the use of the land. I noticed that the electrification line runs to the beach, along with a pipeline for the natural gas. Do you intend to bring a condemnation action for that beachfront as well?”

Ms. Delphox responded quickly. “Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary. We’ve got an easement.”

“An easement, interesting. Have you seen the deed for the land over which you’ve gotten an easement?”

“Of course, my firm’s real estate attorneys would have worked out the details. I have the contract right here.”

“Ah, a contract, yes. Let’s review the elements, shall we? Your client made an offer, the owner of that beachfront accepted it, your client is obligated to care for the land while they use it, and, likewise, the owner is obligated to let your client use it for a term, I presume?”

“It’s a ten year easement with an option to continue.”

“Very well. Now Kate, what am I forgetting?”

“Consideration,” Kate said, grinning as Clara shuffled their papers.

“Consideration. Yes, of course. Payment! How interesting. Now what might be the going rate for an easement like this? Ten year term you said, right? Well I looked and a ten year beachfront easement, while valuable, certainly isn’t worth what your client is paying. So why pay so much, Ms. Delphox?”

The Doctor watched the woman across the table flinch. Clara was remarkable. He finally understood how her occasional recklessness fit in with her authoritarian personality. She took bold moves but was in complete control of the situation.

Clara’s voice rose. “Corruption. You expect my client to tolerate not only the taking of his home but the corruption of a public official?” Kate tugged on Clara’s sleeve, willing her to back off a bit. But once engaged Clara could not be controlled. He’d never seen someone so small look so angry but with so much constraint. Clara continued. “Kovarian. I have the deed, right here, Ms. Delphox.” Clara thrust a document across the table. “Your client paid off a judge under the guise of an easement and then that same judge ruled in your client’s favor.”

“Surely we can resolve this matter?”

Clara laughed. “Surely you can dismiss your case. I hold in my hand a letter to the state ethics commission. This morning I sent one regarding the judge. A clear conflict of interest and a failure to recuse herself. This one has your firm’s name on it. It’s going out today. Bribery.”

“So why even call this conference?” Ms. Delphox had gone completely white.

Kate spoke next. “Because this isn’t the only case, is it? Go back to your firm. Start digging. There are plenty of other places along with coast rich with natural gas, even oil. Plenty of other public officials who own prime beachfronts or even islands. Make sure your firm isn’t helping. Because if you don’t investigate this, we will. And it will cost you more than your firm is worth.”

And with that the matter was concluded. Ms. Delphox made a series of calls and ultimately signed and filed the dismissal form right there. Kate offered her farewells, promising her associates and interns would be scouting out more of these cases. Clara happily agreed to take on a few more should any turn up in her region.

Finally the Doctor and Clara were alone again, parked in the courthouse parking lot.

“Well, I’ve got a whole new area of practice so I guess that was all worth it.”

“Clara, you saved my home. And you may have just saved countless other places like it. I don’t really know how to properly thank you.”

Clara smiled. “I know how you can start.” She pulled a series of photographs out of her briefcase. “Reforestation efforts started last year. They’re looking for volunteers, and I’ve got a few weeks free this spring. What do you say we find our way back to Gallifrey?”

“You got it, boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I vaguely based this on the Pappas case: http://www.latimes.com/la-na-justice100606-story.html#page=5. Lawyer!Clara’s argument skills are based on a classmate of mine who used to do really crazy, sort of reckless things but could also out-argue all of us. 
> 
> That was fun for my first try at completing a story. If I do this again I’d like to work on better characterization of the secondary characters and more natural conflict between the Doctor and Clara. And a stronger ending! I’d like to thank everyone who read this- it was so amusing realizing people were reading something I wrote. And it wasn’t a thirty page treatise on the Voting Rights Act!


End file.
